Bath Time
by AiyokuSama
Summary: Alfred has spoken, and Damian needs help


A/N: This story follows the events of Wet, but can be read as a stand-alone.

Colin blinks up at the large wooden door. Wayne Manor is a very impressive place and this is his first, civilian visit. It's understandable that he's nervous. The boy raises on small hand and knocks. When no one answers right away he bites his lip nervously. Maybe he'd misunderstood Damain's message. Maybe they were to have met at the Penthouse?

Then the door opens and the Wayne butler is blinking at him. Colin smiles broadly. "Hello Mr. Pennyworth. Damian said he wanted my help with something and that I should bring hockey gear. Of course, I don't own hockey gear, so I just came over." Yes, he's babbling slightly but such is the way of the world when the nerves get the better of him.

"Ah. Of course Mr. Wilks," is the proper, if somewhat hesitant response. Then the man is waving him in. "I shall tell Master Damian that you have arrived."

Colin is busy looking around, his eyes wide as saucers. So perhaps it's just a product of his overwhelmed mind that he thought the butler muttered something about finding protective equipment.

The main hall is enormous! And bright, there's a lot of colour from all kinds of artwork and the like. Colin tries to behave himself. He firmly clasps his hands behind his back so as to resist the urge to touch. But surely looking wouldn't hurt.

When Mr. Pennyworth returns and speaks, Colin stands up, the guilty blush inflaming his freckled face. Thankfully, the butler didn't seem to notice, though he probably had and was far too polite to say anything. Oh, blast, now his THOUGHTS are rambling.

"Master Damian is waiting for you in his bedroom. It's upstairs, fourth door on the left." The elderly man is watching him closely. "But I beg of you to wait for me to find you some Kevlar gauntlets before enacting whatever scheme he has hatched."

Colin blinks, completely surprised by the last part. "Um….." He nods, not sure how to respond to that and feeling very nervous about what his friend might be up to that would require such precautions. Oh well, there is one sure fire way to find out. Smiling his thanks to the butler, Colin takes the stairs two at a time, aiming for the designated room.

"Damian?" He calls as he pushes the door open. The swords on the wall are the first things he notices and Colin smiles. The swords really suit his friend and it only makes sense that Damian would give them such a place of honour.

"In the bathroom," an annoyed voice calls from the en-suite.

The redhead feels his eyebrows flying up into his hair line as he walks across the room and tentatively peaks in. But Damian is entirely dressed. And holding a small, bedraggled cat? Colin blinks as he moves over to his friend and reaches out to pet the kitten Damian had in his arms. "He's cute! What's his name?"

"He doesn't have one. Alfred says that he can't stay unless I can get him clean." As Damian speaks the smell wafts up to Colin's nose. Oh boy! The cat smelled like he'd been rolling in compost. Or worse.

Colin nods and his expression brightens. "So we're giving him a bath?" His friend frowns as he nods an affirmative. Had Damian already tried? No, the cat wouldn't' be this calm if that was the case. Maybe Damian was worried about what would happen when they tried?

Oh! Now Mr. Pennyworth's comment made sense, though they wouldn't be needing anything as drastic as gauntlets for this little guy. He glances around the room. There is water in the bathtub, but nothing else is ready for their operation. Well, that had to change.

He smiles at the dark haired boy. "Do you have a plastic cup or something? And some towels that Mr. Pennyworth won't mind throwing out after?" He reflexively reaches out for the kitten as Damian thrusts the beast at him. Then he watches as his friend grumpily goes to find the items.

"Awwwww, you're sooooo cute," Colin coos at the creature, who is purring loudly as it lays on its back in the crook of his arm. The boy can't help it, he has to rub that stinky belly. The hair is a matted mess, but they'd fix that up soon enough.

The door opens, but it's not Damian. It' Mr. Pennyworth, with a large tray containing two dark blue towel, a plastic water jug and a bottle of no-tear baby shampoo and yes, two pairs of gauntlets. Damian is behind the man, glaring at everyone and everything, but Colin ignores him. That's just Damian being Damian, after all.

"Thank you!" Colin offers the butler happily. The man nods as he puts the tray down then takes his leave with a small glare for Damian. That makes Colin wonder what Damian had attempted before calling him. With a shrug he hands the kitten back to Damian and sets about arranging the supplies in the bathroom. All except for the gauntlets, which he just shook his head over, grinning a bit. Damian and his family are a bit strange but that's okay.

Damian follows him into the bathroom just as Colin is testing the temperature of the water. It's not bad. Too hot would hurt but cold would just be cruel. He smiles at his friend. "Do you want me to hold him while you dump some water and soap him up?"

He waited as Damian thought about that. "You know how to hold cats? So that you don't get scratched?" Colin hides a little smile. His friend sounds close to concerned, in his own gruff way.

"Yeah. I've done this a few times. We'll be fine and so will he," the redhead says confidently. Colin takes the kitten and kneels down beside the tub. Holding gently but firmly about the ribs, shoulders and chest he lowers the little beast into the water. And is promptly splashed as the poor thing scrambles to get out. "Shhhhhh, shhhhhh, you're fine," he coos to the poor thing as he nods to Damian to start doing his thing. "I'll bet Mr. Pennyworth will have something nice for you eat when we're done…"

The entire process is not quick. Part of that is due to Damian being rather hesitant at the start, as if he expects the kitten to claw his wrist off or something. But the kitten settled down rather quickly, contenting itself with casting mournful looks at both of them as they worked. Then of course there is the fact that they had to do it FOUR times before the stink seemed to be leaving. Then they washed the little guy a fifth time, just to be sure.

Each time they had to rinse the dirty water from the bathtub, the kitten just huddled in his towel as one of them held him before they started again. Finally though, when Colin buried his nose in the wet fur there was no more stink. He was all set to hang onto the kitten while Damian drained the suds so that they could rinse him off, when the wet monster decided he'd had enough and made a break for it so forcefully that Colin over balanced. He flailed as he starts to go over backwards and grabs onto something—Damian?—has he topples over into the still filled bathtub. Water goes everywhere as two young bodies land in a haphazard sprawl.

Colin splutters as he tries to sit up. "Are you okay," he asks the other ten-year-old, being greeted as surly, "Tt."

Anything else he might have said dies on his lips. That startled exclamation sounded like Mr. Drake. And Damian launches himself out to f the water with an enraged roar. "Don't you touch him, Drake!" the boy screams as he's lurching out into the house, leaving Colin lying in the luck warm, soapy water.

Colin just sighs. It's a very strange family indeed.


End file.
